


Food for Thought

by OneWhoSitsWithTurtles



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Domestic, Established Relationship, Fluff, Food Sex, Humour, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-31
Updated: 2011-01-31
Packaged: 2017-10-15 06:48:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/158153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OneWhoSitsWithTurtles/pseuds/OneWhoSitsWithTurtles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur and Eames get some odd looks at the grocery store. Arthur/Eames</p>
            </blockquote>





	Food for Thought

**Author's Note:**

> **You can check out[here](http://onewhositswiththeturtles.tumblr.com/) to follow my Tumblr for info about me and story updates.**
> 
> Note: The new Arthur/Eames novel, now officially titled “Shades of Gray”, is being written in every spare moment I can find. I promise. I was a little energetic to think it would be up early February, but I’m still pretty hopefully that I can have it up by the start of March. This little story was just my brain doing its best to avoid writing an essay. Hope you enjoy and don’t mind waiting a few more weeks for the new novel :-)

The woman behind the cash register was looking at them with mounting distaste as she continued to scan their selected groceries from the conveyer belt and placed them in the reusable bags they had brought from home. The other customers in line behind them were also beginning to watch their purchases with a growing interest and raised eyebrows. Arthur cleared his throat and awkwardly tried to find somewhere to look where he wouldn’t have to meet someone’s judging gaze.

 

“You alright, darling?” Eames glanced back at him innocently, taking his gaze away from the continuing stream of products. “You’re not catching a cold, are you?”

 

Arthur narrowed his eyes for a moment before shaking his head silently. Eames, suggestive, lewd, obscene Eames, was somehow blissfully unaware of how suggestive their purchases looked when placed together in front of the cash register. Arthur really hadn’t considered what their purchases implied when they were walking down the aisles, bickering quietly and placing essentials in their basket. But now that everyone else’s attention had made things clearer to him, he couldn’t help but groan.

 

“Seriously, love, what’s wrong?” Eames twined an arm around Arthur’s waist and pulled him closer, brushing some stray strands of hair away softly. The embrace made Arthur melt, not entirely immune to Eames when he managed to do something utterly sweet by accident. But at the same time Arthur sighed and rolled his eyes at the obliviousness of his lover. This physical contact really wasn’t helping deter anyone’s assumptions.

 

“Let’s just say...” Arthur whispered, well aware that everyone else was straining their ears to hear him. “We should have bought the condoms and lube separately.”

 

Eames raised an eyebrow and glanced back at their groceries, scrutinizing their choices. Arthur watched as well, feeling as though the bright fluorescent ceiling lights were actually a spotlight pointed right at his embarrassment. A bundle of bananas slid by, followed by a basket of strawberries. After that came a tub of ice cream, a bottle of chocolate sauce, and a can of whipped cream. The box of condoms and lube sat suggestively at the end of the array.

 

“First of all, my dear,” Eames met his gaze again, looking amused, “It is not my fault that our neighbourhood has a collective perverted mind.” The Forger spoke it loudly enough that everyone in the nearby vicinity heard, blushing or purposefully looking somewhere else. “Second,” Eames was smirking now, one arm still looped around Arthur’s tense waist while the man pulled out his wallet to pay, “Buying the condoms and lube separately would be an unnecessary waste of time and energy. Time and energy, I would like to note, would be better spent on activities far more enjoyable than simply fantasizing about what I can do with our grocery list.”

 

The woman at the cash actually choked in surprise and forgot to take Eames’s credit card for a moment. The few customers in line behind Arthur’s back all fell silent and went wide-eyed. One mother looked offended as she pulled her child away to join another, more age appropriate, grocery line. Eames looked like he was having the time of his life and Arthur was busy trying to stop existing then and there.

 

“Is there a problem with the card reader?” Eames turned and asked the cashier jovially, noting that the woman was standing there with the credit card held loosely in her hand.

 

“Um...uh, no, sorry,” she mumbled hurriedly as she put the Forger’s card in the slot and allowed the man to sign the receipt. “Have a good night,” she stated weakly when Eames handed back the signed slip of paper.

 

The Point Man watched with dread as Eames’s grin seemed to grow to an improbable size. “Thank you,” he responded politely, sending a noticeably lewd look back at Arthur, “I will be having an excellent night.” Arthur knew his face was flushed red by this point, his whole body feeling feverish with embarrassment. He rushed forward to take half of the grocery bags but Eames barred his path and picked them all up easily. “I don’t think so, love,” the man chided him warmly, still speaking louder than necessary. “You need to keep your strength up for tonight.”

 

Eames turned on his heel, looking wicked, and headed for the door. With nothing to say in order to fix everyone’s assumptions now, Arthur fled the weight of everyone’s eyes on him. He trailed along behind his lover as they wove through the parking lot of cars and came to their own. Arthur slid into the driver’s seat while Eames set the groceries in the trunk and took the passenger seat.

 

It was only then that Arthur spoke. “Was that really necessary?” he hissed, rubbing his temples in an attempt to force away his annoyance with his lover.

 

“What’s the big deal?” Eames chuckled, reaching over to peel one of Arthur’s hands away from his temples and twine their fingers together over the gear shift. “It’s their own damned faults for making such inappropriate assumptions.”

 

“Yes, but you didn’t need to _encourage_ said assumptions,” the Point Man snapped, though his voice was mellowing out. It would be irritating that Eames could calm him down with such a simple, comforting touch if it didn’t make Arthur feel so content. “We need to go back there you know,” he reminded Eames tiredly, knowing he was losing the fight. “I’m not sure you know what a permanent residence entails.”

 

“Of course I know what it entails, sweetheart,” Eames whispered as he lifted their combined hands and kissed Arthur’s knuckles softly. “It means I get to wake up in the morning with you curled up against me. It means you make me a delicious dinner and I make my famous desserts. It means I get to go to sleep with you in my arms, knowing that you’ll be there in the morning.”

 

Arthur sighed, sounding more blissful than he meant. He was half tempted to tell Eames that he had been talking about what it was like to become part of a permanent community, where people _knew_ you and judged how well you fit into the delicate web of the collective group. But as he felt Eames’s lips skim over his skin and heard the happy hum from his lover’s throat, he decided that it wasn’t worth it. Instead, he untangled his fingers from Eames’s, gripped the man’s chin, pulled him in close for a quick kiss, and then started the car.

 

It wasn’t a far drive to their flat, but they had decided to take the car since the news had called for a blizzard starting sometime in the evening. The time passed quickly, especially when Eames began creating a list of all the other suggestive items they should have added to their list at the grocery store. The Forger had even begged for Arthur to turn the car around at one point, saying he wanted to run in to buy some ears of corn with some comment along the lines of ‘ _can’t forget the main event_!’

 

Arthur had sent Eames a withering glare and locked the car doors with the master lock as he hit the gas pedal. Eames had laughed and muttered something domestically sweet that had Arthur struggling to keep his smile down.

 

They arrived home soon after, parking in the underground parking lot before exiting the car. They each took one bag and headed for the stairs, always choosing the option that gave more exercise to stay in shape; they were far from retired. In fact, the Point Man had already been propositioned for a new job in the new year, which they would be considering after their Christmas and New Year’s celebrations.

 

He pushed the thoughts of work aside as he slid his key into the lock and shouldered the apartment door open. Arthur set his bag down on the island counter in the kitchen before disappearing down the hall, saying to Eames that he was going to change into something more comfortable. By the time he returned to the kitchen, pyjama bottoms loose on his hips and t-shirt fluttering loosely, Eames was busy putting the finishing touches on his creations.

 

Eames handed Arthur one bowl and watched him eagerly as the Point Man took his first spoonful of the rather extravagant looking banana split sundae. He didn’t bother hiding his pleasure at the taste, allowing his eyes to drift closed. “This is so much better than what those people at the grocery store were assuming.”

 

The Forger snorted and Arthur opened his eyes again to regard his lover. “Should I take that as an insult, pet?” Eames asked him mischievously, picking up his own bowl.

 

Arthur laughed softly and took another large spoonful, the combination of banana, ice cream, strawberries, chocolate and whipped cream all coming together wonderfully. “Absolutely not,” he admitted.

 

Eames practically beamed at the compliment as they took their sundaes out of the kitchen and into the living room, settling on the couch comfortably. They didn’t bother turning on the television, happy to simply enjoy their dessert and talk. “Do you want anything else, love?” Eames asked him when the Forger noticed Arthur just had a few mouthfuls of ice cream and strawberries left.

 

“Maybe some whipped cream,” he agreed, “Just to finish off the strawberries.” Eames grinned and nodded, setting his long since empty bowl down on the coffee table before rushing into the kitchen. Arthur watched as the other man returned with the canister of whipped cream, growing nervous when Eames began shaking it energetically. As he had expected, the pressure in the can had built up and Arthur got a nice face full of whipped cream. “You did that on purpose, didn’t you?” he questioned in aggravation.

 

“I swear I didn’t mean to, pet,” Eames laughed and whispered. Arthur was immediately aware of how breathy the man’s laugh was and how raspy the Forger’s voice suddenly became. He felt Eames lift his bowl from his fingers delicately and heard the porcelain touch the polished wood of the coffee table. He couldn’t open his eyes unless he wanted whipped cream in them, but Arthur didn’t mind; it made every other sense heightened as he felt Eames lean closer.

 

He did his best not to jump in surprise when Eames’s hot tongue touched his jaw line and began trailing up to his cheekbone, licking away the cream thoroughly. Once Arthur knew his face was clean he blinked his eyes open, breath a little short and face flush with arousal. He could still feel some cream on his neck but Eames stilled his hand when the Point Man reached to wipe it away. “Don’t move,” the Forger demanded as he rushed off the couch.

 

Arthur remained where he was, body tense and thrumming with arousal. He watched Eames with a predatory-like interest when the man returned to drop the remaining whipped cream, chocolate sauce and strawberries down on the coffee table by Arthur’s knee. Eames took one strawberry from the basket and Arthur tilted his head back as the Forger led him, barring his neck for his lover to slide the strawberry against. The next moment, Eames had the strawberry in front of Arthur’s face, covered in the remaining whipped cream.

 

Arthur, never one to back down from a challenge, took the strawberry into his mouth slowly; he made sure his lips stretched over the berry and that his eyes never wavered from Eames’s lustfully dark ones. He bit down and chewed on the strawberry before swallowing demonstratively, watching in pleasure when he noticed Eames’s throat contract in a hard swallow of its own. “Maybe the people at the grocery store had it right,” Eames whispered hesitantly, clearly wondering if Arthur would allow them to continue.

 

He could see Eames’s desire in the man’s flushed cheeks and bulging pants, a mirror image to Arthur except free of residue whipped cream. Arthur had never really thought about using food for this before, but he was certainly not stopping things now. Instead, he grabbed another strawberry and presented it to Eames; Arthur couldn’t stop himself as he licked his lips while watching Eames stretch those plump lips over the fruit. He barely managed to wait long enough to allow the Forger to swallow before he had sealed his lips over the other man’s, the taste of strawberries predominant as their tongues met.

 

They kissed for a long span of time, exploring one another’s mouths as if it was their first kiss all over again. But then Arthur felt Eames leaning closer to him, gently leading the Point Man down until he was sprawled on his back on the couch. Eames straddled his thighs and grabbed the hemline of Arthur’s loose shirt, pulling it over his head and flinging it to the floor. Then Arthur watched as his lover playfully snatched the chocolate sauce from the coffee table and dribbled a line down the Point Man’s chest to his belt. Arthur shivered, but only partially due to anticipation. “It’s winter, you know,” he grumbled, “It’s not exactly hot in here.”

 

“Don’t worry, darling,” Eames kissed him teasingly before dropping his mouth down to begin licking away the chocolate trail that travelled noticeably past Arthur’s navel. “I’ll keep you warm.”

 

Eames’s lips and tongue met his skin, beginning at the pool of chocolate along Arthur’s collarbone before inching downward. Arthur found himself moaning and forgetting what, exactly, he had been complaining about.

**Author's Note:**

> **You can check out[here](http://onewhositswiththeturtles.tumblr.com/) to follow my Tumblr for info about me and story updates.**


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